The Story of Chippy
by Maidenhair
Summary: We all know the story of Erik, the freakish masked man, Christine, the brainschallenged divawannabe, and Raoul, the foppish aristo. However, who knows the story of Chippy the opera squirrel? Ending is completed. Plese review. Oh, and read it of
1. Default Chapter

Chippy

Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera, I don't even own the computer I'm writing this fic on, (once I owned a cat, but even that was taken from me!)

Author's Note: This is THE REAL Maidenhair. I am withdrawing my sister from using my name anymore. (I DID NOT write that Les Mis POTO fic!)

My dear reader,

This is not your ordinary POTO fan-fic. It is not the usual dribble about a fop, a freak, and a ditsy singer and their impassioned stupidity, this is a true story. This is a story of sorrow and work. This is the never before told tale of Chippy, the opera squirrel. It is not a happy tale, and it will fill you with woe. But read it, you should! For poor Chippy has waited long enough! This is his story now, as it was told to me through a crack in the floor of my private opera box.

I was watching the opera Faust by Gounod at the time. A rather pretty singer named Christine Daae was performing Margarita with lack-luster acting. It was in the jewel song that it happened.

"Hello?" came a small, squeaky voice.

"Hmm?" I asked.

"Um, this is my private box." The voice stated.

"Oh dear!" I said, "I'm sorry, but I was given this box. There must have been an err!"

"Figures." The voice said, "Just my luck!"

He sounded sad, so I asked, "My dear sir, is there anything wrong?"

"Yes." He said, and I suddenly noticed that the speaker was a small, gray squirrel that was sitting on the banister.

"Oh, hello there!" I exclaimed.

"Hi." He said, wiping a tear.

"Dear me, Mr. Squirrel! You DO seem sad! Might you tell me what is wrong?"

"Do you want to hear?" he asked.

"Of course! I'm always around for poor little animals!" I said. So he began:

Chippy's Story:

Well, I'm Chippy, the Squirrel of the Opera. Once I inspired terror and romance in the opera singers and patrons with my antics. I was great! It wore a cape, and a tux, and I was known everywhere for my brilliant escapes from the Parisian pest control. I was number one! Ballet girls told tales of me, singers fainted at my sight, managers gave me all I demanded, and I was happy. Sniffle! Then it all went wrong!

It was the fifteenth of August, (I remember it because it was my birthday,) when it happened. I was writing a letter to the managers asking in my fuzzy way for a box of crackers when HE came!

He was very tall for a human, and he was wet. That's how I most remember him, tall and wet. He also seemed a tad-bit paranoid, and he twitched. He creped into the opera, (MY OPERA!) and I could see that something was afoot. The reasons for my suspicions were two: One, he went into the cellars. No ORDINARY patron goes there! It is MY private domain, or at least, it WAS my domain. Two, he carried a large suitcase. It doesn't take a rocket squirrel to see that the man was moving in!

Now, don't get me wrong, humans are a tolerable species. But really! This was MY home! MINE! And I didn't want to share it with a man, (particularly one who was wet!)

At first we were able to coexist in peace and harmony. However, I watched his actions closely to see if he was of the hostile kind or not. It is hard to tell with humans. One day they can seem as sweet as sugar, another day their off starting a world war! Well, I watched him. I found out a lot about him from those days of observance, and I kept a scientific journal of what I observed were his behaviors.

I decided he was a water species, because he seemed to find the underground lake irresistible. He also seemed to be a nocturnal species; I noted this from the strange color and glow of his yellow eyes. He was altogether too thin, which led me to believe that he may be diseased. However I noticed that he had strength to him, because he was often running without stop for long periods of time.

All went well until the singing began. At first I believe it was simply his natural territorial calls, but then the call distinctly changed. It was a courtship call! And he was after a female!

I found the female. She was a small species, with yellow plumage and blue eyes. It was an interesting pattern of behavior that I witnessed. He, singing and flirting, she flirting and flirting. However, she was not of the loyal species. She soon lost interest in him for another human of the same plumage as her own. I was fascinated! I was able to watch the female's ENTIRE courtship routine! But then, tragedy struck!

I was scampering along the hall when I decided to listen to the usual gossip about myself that the ballet girls were bandying. I listened, and –to my horror- the conversation was about me! It was about some Phantom! I was replaced! I was no longer number one! I was forgotten!

Chippy ended his tale with choked sobs.

"Poor fellow!" I said sympathetically.

"And to think! It was the very human species that I had been observing that had replaced me!" Chippy growled.

"POOR FELLOW!" I said again.

"Well, _I_ won't be the 'poor fellow' forever! Today I reek my vengeance!" Chippy quoth this, and scampered away.

Just then, the lights went out! When they relit, the mediocre singer, Christine Daae, was gone. Only a handful of nuts remained.

The end.

Please review and tell Chippy that you love him.


	2. Chapter the second

CHAPTER THE SECOND: In which Chippy has his revenge.

The crowd was in an uproar when the dubious diva vaporized. Some shouted for their money back, others for the police, still others screamed for revolution. I simply sat still. Chippy had his revenge. Justice prevailed! In inwardly applauded my little friend, and swore to help him regain his status at the opera.

I strolled from my, or rather Chippy's box, and meandered up the velvet halls. Soon I came upon a sign that read in bright golden letters: "HOGWASH!" This was a new development! I had never before heard of such an idea being imposed at the opera. It was a scandal! It was disrespect! It was… well, rather interesting. I followed the sign, which bore a large emblem of an arrow that told me the direction in which I was to head.

Soon I came upon a large "dunking-pool". An exceedingly fat man in a pig suit sat waiting to be dunked.

"Ah!" the slob cried, "Come here and try your luck!"

"I do not believe in luck." I sated coolly, dunking the man in a single blow.

Down he sank. His weight drug him to the bottom. A trail of bubbles was all that was left.

"Goodness!" I cried, "Who would think that he couldn't swim! Help please! A man is drowning!"

Several burly men dove to the rescue and retrieved, with great difficulty, the unconscious individual.

"Ah! My love!" screamed a hysterical woman in a gaudy dress, "PIANGI! H, h, h, he's…. DEAD!"

"Actually, Ma'am…" I began, feeling the man's pulse.

"It's that PHANTOM OF THE OPERA!" the woman cried, "Let us all gather to mob him without evidence, and kill him without a trial, only to end up in prison for life for taking the law into our own hands! Sound like a good idea?"

"OUI!" The crown cried unanimously.

"Half a moment!" I objected, noticing the pure folly of their actions, "I'm sure that if someone would just give the poor fellow mouth-to-mouth he would…"

"Still be dead!" the woman screamed.

"And it would not be as much fun!" a ballet girl with a name tag reading "Little Meg" said.

"And I like violence!" added another ballet girl, who was so thin that she looked like a walking corpse.

"And ever since I rescued that phantom fellow I've had an urge for DRAMATIC BETRAYAL!" an older woman in a black taffeta dress added in her most theatrical voice.

"But you'll be in trouble with the law!" I cried.

"Blast the law!" the first woman (the one who started the trouble) laughed, "Yay violence!"

The mob marched off carrying clubs, cudgels, knifes, forks, spoons, and insurance policies that they brandished feloniously. They made a terrible din! Soon they even began singing old lynching chants, shouting phrases from witch hunting manuals, and bandying Monty Python jokes. (The latter symptom of the mob seemed totally out of place.)

I sat for a moment debating on weather to help the phantom personage. I decided against it. It would be to much of a betrayal of my dear Chippy! I was still lost in my thoughts when a cold and somewhat hairy had grasped my shoulder and a voice cried, "Christine? Is it you?"

_What a hairy hand!_ I thought.

Thus ends chapter the second. Please review for the sake of my poor friend, Chippy!

Author's note: Thank you, you kind people for being so good to Chippy and reviewing. It is already helping mend his broken heart!


	3. Chapter the third

CHAPTER THE THIRD

Author's Note: I am sorry if anyone is displeased with what happened to Erik, but I cannot change the past, (I am merely a 2nd class wizard.) If you want the past changed, ask Gandalf at But who cares about Erik? This is the story of poor little Chippy, and a squirrel is better than a psycho any day. Wouldn't you agree?

I was obviously startled at having such a bushy hand placed upon my person. I whirled about and pulled out my can of pepper mace. "Hold it right there!" I commanded.

I was staring into the masked face of a dark-haired man in dress clothes. He looked quite surprised. "Goodness, gracious me!" he said, "You're not Christine at all, at all!"

"Excellent Observation, Watson!" I said dryly.

"You don't even VAGUELY resemble Christine!" The man added, "My name is Erik, by the way."

"I didn't ask!" I snapped.'

"Oh, um, yes. Well, I just though EVERYONE is interested in me." He replied, "And I'm dreadfully sorry about confusing you with my darling angel! You see, this dmask gets sooo in the way of my vision! And besides, I need glasses!"

"Whatever." I said, wondering if I should suggest that he go to a laser hair removal place of some sorts.

"Well, I best be going now!" Erik said, "I've murders to plot, money to steal, music to write, songs to sing, sad memories to revisit in order to make myself look more pathetic to my girl phans, a fop to catch, and a beautiful –if dim- girl to find. I'm simply booked! Booked! Oh, and I need to polish my long nails. I'm growing them out –you see- for scratching purposes. Toodle-loo!"

For the briefest of moments my conscience wavered. After all, if Erik, (whom I was convinced was that phantom fellow,) went down to his lair he would be cut into tiny pieces by a bloodthirsty mob! Then the thought of mobbing struck me as quite humorous, and I left the Phantom to his fate. If you think I am cruel, I am not. If Erik was left to live, poor Chippy would be without a job for life! Choose the lesser –and funnier- of two evils I always say!

However, now I had to find Chippy and see how the poor dear was. I continued down to the cellars when a voice cried out "Christine! Is it you?"

The voice was squeaky and flat, like a bike tire without air. I despised it!

"No I am NOT you silly, fool-of-a-Took, bratty diva-wanna-be!" I snarled, "I so happen to be ." I stated my name here, which I will not do in this fan fic because my identity is a secret that only the selected few know.

"Oh my!" The squeaky voiced man said, "You're the lass who's identity only a selected few know! I am honored!"

"Don't be." I stated. I eyed the man. He was short, squatty, and rather on the gaudy side. His aqua-marine coat was decked with bells and bows, his pants were plaid, his shirt frilled, and the toe of each shoe was curled like a leprechaun's. He had blond hair done in Lord of the Rings-elf stile, and he wore a top had.

"I am Raoul le Viscount de Chaney de France de Europe de Earth de Milky Way CXVII. I am from a wealthy family from France in Europe, on Earth, in the Milky Way. I work a job as a Viscount de Chaney de Europe de Earth de Milky Way. I work the job of being a Viscount de Chaney de Europe de Earth de Milky Way, in France, in Europe, on Earth, in the Milky Way." The fop said.

"Oh." I said, uninterested.

"I knew you would be interested!" he squeaked.

"Please go away!" I growled.

"Oh, dear!" Raoul sniffed, "Another anti-social person! I seem to run into those a lot! But I don't mind a tinker's d! I have a positive attitude! I am Raoul le Viscount de…"

I left hurriedly. _I must find Chippy!_ I thought.

Suddenly I came upon an old sign that pointed an arrow toward a small passage. The sign said, "Chippy's Lair, KEEP OUT!" That was it! I had found the lair! "Good old Chippy!" I cried, plunging into the darkness, "I'm coming old pall!

Extra disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Ring, (duh!)

Author's note: Thank you for all the reviews, Chippy is pleased. Do continue this positive response to the unfortunate squirrel, little animals don't deserve the sorrows!


	4. Chapter the Last, or The Last Chapter

CHAPTER THE LAST, or THE LAST CHAPTER

Author's Note to those who were good enough to review and those who criticized:

To anomalyboblaladodalydo: I was rather confused by your complaint! First, I would like to point out that I never mentioned that I was a phan. You said I was a bad phan, but how do you know if I'm a phan at all? I won't admit to either. It wouldn't be proper. Also, you said that I "killed Erik". Well, as a matter of fact, I DIDN'T! I'm not sure if I want him dead either…. Hmmm. Nah, I'll let him die. But anyhow, it's the mob that kills him, not me and Chippy. Lastly, what kind of BAD person would hurt a squirrel?

To L-X-R: I miss you! Thanks for so faithfully reviewing. May your life be devoid of cheeriness!

To Pimpernelunderacelticmoon: My dear sister, you're opinion is worth less than a mite of green butter. Happy un-birthday.

To Baffled Seraph, Anadechangy, Kristinekat13, Erik for president, Artymas, Sytherin Groupie, Loverofbalto, and BrattyStitchie: Chippy loves you too. You all receive prizes for squirrel sympathy

To all my reviewers: Please refrain from using crass expressions, even in praising. It looks rather rough, and Chippy doesn't like it.

Un-Disclaimer: I do own Chippy

I wandered for quite some time until I came upon an office door. I knocked.

"Come in!" Chippy cried from inside.

"Chippy, my dear!" I said as I strolled into the room, "This is quite a lair!"

"Actually," Chippy corrected, "It's my lab. I study humanoids. They're an interesting species."

"I agree." I said, twitching my antennae, "By the by, what did you do to the diva?"

"Oh, I' m keeping her for a while for research, then I'm donating my research to National Squirrelographic. Then I'll just tag her and let her loose in her natural habitat." Chippy replied, "Cigar?"

"Yes please." I answered. I took the cigar and had a few puffs. "Where is she?" I asked at last.

"Oh, in that cage over ther." Chippy remarked offhandedly.

I strolled toward the cage. The diva-wanna-be was sitting on a large bird-perch.

"My angel, Erik will save me! No! Not that creep! My sweet viscount will save me! No! Not that fop! My angel, Erik will save me! No! Not that creep! My sweet viscount will save me! No! Not that fop! I love Erik! No! He's ugly and old! Raoul is handsome! I love Raoul! No! Looks don't make the man! Erik is my love! Raoul! Erik! Raoul! Erik! Raoul! Angel vs. Fop! Viscount vs. Murderer! Who should I choose? Who should I choose? Erik or Raoul? Oh!" The singer was saying over and over again.

"I can narrow your choice out a bit." I said, listening to the gory sounds of the mob above.

"Oh! Look! Pretty fairie!" Christine cried, pointing a finger at me.

"Don't point, it's rude." I replied, walking over to Chippy.

"What do you think?" Chippy asked.

"Oh, an interesting specimen to be sure!" I assured, "But, Chippy, old thing, Now that Erik is dead will you be happy and be able to go back to your former occupation?"

"Alas, no!" Chippy sighed, "For the legend of Erik has inspired novelists to movie directors and therefore his fame will live on. My days as The Squirrel of the Opera are done."

"In that case," I said, "Would you be interested in coming with me to Fairie for a while?"

"Oh, my lady, I would love it!"

EPILOUGE:

Chippy and I had a grand time in Fairie, Erik died (duh), the mob was arrested with Carlotta screaming "Revenge for Buquet and Piangi!" and Buquet and Piangi echoing her. Raoul never stopped talking. Christine turned up after a while, tagged and collared for observation. I won an award for the Hogwash.

**Fin**

**Do be kind enough to review! It does please Chippy so much. If you want to visit please go to Ireland, then stand by moonlight on the shores of Lough Larchen. You'll be sent to fairie within seconds.**

**Maidenhair of Farie**


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